


dreaming of the past

by SpiralSpectre



Series: Ghost Dream AU [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: (I think its happy at least), (I'm not sure if it counts or not but I wanna be careful), (just in case), Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Found Family, Gen, Ghost Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, In this house we love and appreciate Sapnap, Memory Loss, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Platonic Cuddling, Protective Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Repression, Sapnap and George just really want their friend back, Scars, Trauma, listen if you can't cuddle the homies then whats the point, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28379994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiralSpectre/pseuds/SpiralSpectre
Summary: It seems too impossible to be true. Dream, tyrant of the land of Dream SMP, terrorizer of L’Manburg, puppeteer pulling all the strings, is dead.All it took was one death to finish the job.But in these lands, dead doesn’t mean gone. Not completely anyways.(Or George struggles with the right thing to do, Sapnap wants to hold onto the past a little longer, and Ghost Dream doesn't know why his best friends are so upset but would do anything to cheer them up.)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s), Tommyinnnit & Tubbo
Series: Ghost Dream AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099100
Comments: 72
Kudos: 586





	1. Hello

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to throw my Ghost Dream thoughts into the ring so take Part One of Ghost Dream?
> 
> Takes place long before the whole 'Beach Episode' Incident but after Tommy's Exile.

It goes like this:

It’s been two long and agonizing weeks since Tubbo, President of L’Manburg, has seen his best friend. Tubbo, known for being patient and rational, is stretched to his limits and filled with regret and guilt.

It doesn’t matter if he did the right thing or not. Tubbo finds that at the end of it all, frustration boils over and he’s a step away from falling off the edge and doing something rash. Had anyone noticed earlier and helped him cool down, maybe things would’ve been different. Or maybe it would’ve happened regardless.

The Butterfly Effect Vs. the Illusion of Free Will. It’s impossible to know if things could’ve been different.

But Tubbo is at his limit and the person to push him over is none other than the cause of all of his current problems. Dream, the terrifying leader of the Dream SMP with an aura of power surrounding him and seemingly nothing keeping him grounded.

His presence was enough to make Tubbo on edge as it was recently. Even when he’s being civil, something about him makes Tubbo feel small. Powerless. Like he’s back on those obsidian walls again with all eyes on him, expecting him to do the right thing and slowly coming to the horrifying realization that if Tommy dies in the war they’re about to get into, Tubbo will lose him forever and he _can’t lose Tommy because Tubbo will die with him-_

Suffocating. That’s what Dream feels like nowadays. _Suffocating._

It all happens so fast.

Dream visits L’Manburg, taking off his armor for once but even without it, Tubbo still feels like he’s leagues stronger than he is. Tubbo can barely tell what he’s saying at first, focusing on breathing in, then out, slowly and deliberately and keeping control. 

Then Dream starts talking about Tommy and something inside Tubbo starts to twist.

Because Dream never has anything nice to say about Tommy. It’s always how L’Manburg is better off without him, how Tubbo is better off without him, how _Tommy_ is better off where he is now even though- even though- _even though Ghostbur told Tubbo otherwise._

_It twists and it twists and it twists-_

Dream won’t stop talking. Tommy this, Tommy that- he’s been tormenting Tommy and Tubbo can’t _take it_ but he doesn't know what to _do._

_-And it twists and it twists and it twists-_

“Tommy needed to learn a lesson.”

Tubbo wants nothing more than for Dream to _shut his fucking mouth_ but of course Dream never does that. 

_And it twists until something **snaps.**_

Tubbo’s hands curl around a cold, metal handle and before he can blink, there’s a sword in between Dream’s ribs. Dream reflexes are quick- trying to shove Tubbo off him and reaching for something to help with shaking hands and furious yelling but Tubbo is _pissed_ and when Dream tries to swat his hands away, Tubbo angles the sword without thinking and plunges it deeper into the man who ruined his life.

His senses don’t come flooding back until Dream chokes on blood. 

Tubbo is brought out of a cruel haze and quickly stumbles back, taking the sword with him. There’s a golden apple in Dream’s unsteady hands but it falls to the ground uselessly as Dream collapses to his knees, one hand barely keeping him upright as he attempts to push himself off the ground. He makes no attempt to grab the apple.

Tubbo doesn’t know what to say. He gapes at Dream, feeling himself start to spiral and the only thing keeping him in the present is the fact that Dream’s mask falls to the ground and bright green eyes stare at Tubbo in pure shock.

Tubbo hasn’t seen Dream without his mask since-...

Tubbo doesn’t know how long it’s been, but it’s been longer than L’Manburg has existed. He barely even recognizes his face.

The emotion on Dream’s face is what shocks Tubbo the most. He doesn’t see genuine emotion from Dream often, not with a mask blocking his face. He’s heard smug pride and burning anger before but like this? Shock, confusion, realization, resignation, _fear-_ it's foreign. 

Everything else happened so fast but when Dream stares at Tubbo like this, time slows down. Everything else is white noise- buzzing in his head and making it hard to focus on anything else but the fact that _it's getting so very hard to breathe-_

Seconds, minutes, hours- Tubbo honest to god can’t tell how long they stay there.

Not until Dream falls to the ground and doesn’t get back up. Not until everything comes crashing down on Tubbo at once.

 _When Dream respawns- he’s going to be pissed. He’s going to destroy L’Manburg._ Tubbo realizes shakily. _And it’ll be all my fault._

Tubbo waits for Dream’s body to disappear. 

It doesn’t.

Quackity and Fundy find them twenty minutes later. Neither have moved a muscle.

Quackity steadies Tubbo uncertainly, eyes darting to the body in front of them from time to time, unable to believe it himself. Fundy carefully crouches by Dream’s unmoving form and presses two fingers to his neck and waits.

Tubbo sees the moment Fundy stops breathing, a soundless gasp hitting him.

Fundy stands up a minute later and quietly announces that Dream is dead, in a tone as if he can’t believe it.

The entire world seemingly goes still as if it can’t believe it either.

—

Logshire is cold. And lonely.

People come to visit and Ghostbur spends a decent amount of time with him, but it’s not the same. Because Tommy is alone and sitting around the campfire does little to help the cold. Ghostbur put a blanket around his shoulders too but Tommy can barely feel it.

Tommy is so cold. _So very cold._

Slowly, he chews on the bread provided by Ghostbur but he can’t taste it really. He’s not even hungry, even if he should be, but Tommy eats because Ghostbur gets upset when he skips meals and he owes Ghostbur this much at least.

It’s late at night and Tommy stares into the fire, slowly chewing the remaining of his dinner when he hears footsteps approach.

Ghostbur doesn’t make footsteps, he floats, inches above the ground, even if he doesn’t notice it. And given his track record, Tommy has a good idea of who’s visiting at such an ungodly time.

Tommy sighs. “If you’re here to blow up more of my stuff, I’m not in the mood. Come back later, Dre-”

Words fall out of his mouth when he turns his head. Tommy blinks, once, three times, then rubs his eyes to see if what he’s really seeing is real. 

Tubbo doesn’t disappear. He stands there, shifting his feet but steadily meeting Tommy’s eyes.

Tommy stands up abruptly, blanket falling to the ground as he does but he makes no move to pick it back up. His mouth opens and closes until he utters a surprised, “What the hell are you doing here?”

To anyone else, it might’ve sounded angry. But Tubbo stifles a chuckle when he hears it and looks just the slightest bit relieved.

“Hey Tommy.” Tubbo croaks out. It’s only been two weeks but something about his eyes makes him look older. Different. But still Tubbo. Tommy is grateful for that at least, as conflicted and bitter as he feels, he can’t deny that seeing familiar ol’ Tubbo does wonders on its own. 

Then Tubbo says something that makes him think he’s dreaming.

“I’m uh, here to bring you home.”

“Wha- _really?”_ Tommy blinks for a moment until it hits him. He can’t hope just yet. “I can’t, Tubbo. Dream will kill me.”

At the mention of his name, Tubbo flinches. Not scared, not angry, but _guilty._

“That… He won’t be an issue, Tommy.” Tubbo tells him quietly. “I promise. Come home?”

Tommy wants to. _God knows how much he wants to._ But there’s a bitterness that remains, eating away at him like a disease.

 _Is it really home if your best friend exiled you under threat of death?_ His thoughts whisper to him.

“Where was this two weeks ago?” A fire in Tommy’s chest rises to his throat.

Tubbo deflates. “Tommy-”

His eyes squeeze shut. Tommy refuses to cry. “You haven’t visited me in _two weeks.”_

_“Tommy-”_

“We’re supposed to be _best friends_ and you-!”

_“Tommy, **please.”**_

The fire extinguishes as the plea is nothing less than a bucket of ice water poured on Tommy’s head. His eyes snap open.

“I’m-” Tubbo tries to speak but a sob leaves him instead and he crumbles. Instinct takes over and Tommy is at his side before his knees hit the ground, a steady arm slinging around his shoulder and bringing him close to his chest.

“I- I-” Tubbo keeps trying to force words out until Tommy shushes him as gently as he can.

All the previous anger and bitterness washes away. Tommy can’t tell if it’ll be back later or not but it doesn’t matter. Logshire, L’Manburg, his disks, nothing else matters.

His best friend is breaking down in front of him. That’s the only thing that matters right now.

“Stop trying to talk, you’re not doing yourself any favors.” Tommy tells him. Tubbo shakes his head, opening his mouth again but Tommy is quicker. “I know, alright? I know.”

That seems to be enough. Tubbo and Tommy focus on calming down until they’re ready to stand again. 

Hand in hand, they make their way over to the portal and quietly step in. Back to L’Manburg. Back home.

Together this time.

Tommy doesn’t know what changed but it doesn’t matter right now. He’ll find out- Tommy will make sure he does- but Tubbo isn’t in a state to give answers right now.

Though the fact that Tubbo is no longer wearing his suit and looks more than a little shaken up gives him a few clues.

—

It takes Tubbo a couple days to hold a conversation and a week to leave the comforts of his home. 

He needs to get out of his house- he’s spent half the week in his bed alone and Tubbo knows that’s not doing him any favors mentally.

Everyone knows at this point, Quackity and Fundy made sure of that. They deserved to know, they all agreed on that beforehand and following through was rough but necessary. 

Dream is dead. Tubbo's still wrapping his head around it.

Tubbo’s more surprised by the fact that nobody’s shown up at his doorstep demanding to know what happened, but then again, Tubbo has had somewhat of a bodyguard with him. Tommy has barely left his side, much less his property. When he’s not hovering around Tubbo making small talk to fill the silence, he’s pacing around the outside of Tubbo’s house like some sort of knight on patrol.

It’s almost funny. Almost.

They still haven’t spoken about it much. Tommy’s been holding back on bringing it up, avoiding stepping on broken glass, which surprises Tubbo. He would’ve thought Tommy would’ve demanded answers the second Tubbo looked better but he’s been… Careful. 

Tubbo knew Tommy could be gentle but not like this. Not where he avoids so much as mentioning anything even relating to what happened- even mentioning the _word_ ‘Dream’ seems to be off limits. Tubbo doesn’t know what to make of it. 

It almost feels like Tommy is terrified, though Tubbo hasn’t been in the right mind to work out of _what_ exactly, or if it’s a mix of things.

They’ll have to talk sooner or later, though Tubbo just wants a little more time before they do.

Maybe it’s selfish of him but he knows that he and Tommy are going to have to continue their fight. They can’t just leave it out in the open, but thinking about it hurts.

Maybe it’s selfish but Tubbo just wants him and Tommy to be okay for a little while longer.

Tubbo lets out a huff, walking along the oak path and exiting L’Manburg’s borders.

The air feels different. Not quite tense like it was but uncertain. Like everyone is holding their breath- either for Dream to suddenly come back and come back swinging or for someone else to snap because of his death and because of it, the land is still.

Not completely, but more than it was. Tubbo catches a few people out farming and talking amongst themselves but their voices are hushed, trying not to disturb the shaky ground they’re all standing on. 

Tubbo keeps moving, letting the familiar path wash over him and finding it a little easier to breathe. He passes by houses both new and old, letting them pass by in a blur, until he stops in the middle of his path at one. One he’s seen before but now looks different.

The community house. One of the oldest builds around, it’s _different._ Not bad- it hasn’t been griefed of any sort but it looks like someone has been working on it again, trying to make it look nicer. The wood looks newer, as if it’s replaced the old, wearing down walls, and the windows look new.

A figure passes by the window of the community house, catching Tubbo’s eye. Whoever it is is still hard at work, though Tubbo can’t quite tell who it is. He hesitates but in the end, Tubbo moves to investigate. Mere curiosity, nothing more. Not to mention, he hasn’t really spoken to anyone outside of Tommy, Ghostbur, Phil, Quackity, and Fundy. If it’s not one of them, it would be good for Tubbo to see how everyone else is doing.

 _You’re slacking on your presidential duties._ A voice whispers, eating at him. Tubbo gulps it down and pushes the door open to enter.

The inside is far nicer than Tubbo’s ever seen it. It’s been furnished- tables with potted plants all around and the flooring has been replaced. A few paintings have been put up, as well as pictures. The one that catches Tubbo’s eye makes his heart ache.

Dream, Sapnap, and George stand in front of the house, arms around each other and grinning proudly at their creation. It looks old- the mask Dream wears is positioned to only cover the upper half of his face. Tubbo can’t remember exactly when Dream started covering all of his face but it had to have been around the same time that L’Manburg was created.

Tubbo tries not to think about how genuinely happy they all look in the picture. His eyes wander, searching for the culprit that’s been sprucing up the place.

His gaze spots a faint but familiar green figure. Tubbo’s throat closes up and his legs are glued to the ground, unable to move.

The figure- who floats an inch off the ground, neatly pushes in a chair to his newly created table and turns. White, pupil-less eyes pause upon seeing Tubbo, then grin.

“Oh, hey. Tubbo, mind if I borrow you for a second? I wanna get your opinion on something.”

He floats off out of Tubbo’s sight, then doubles back when Tubbo doesn’t so much as attempt to follow him. A frown forms on his lips. “Hey, something wrong? No offense but you kinda look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

 _“I have.”_ Tubbo’s voice is barely a whisper as he stares into the lifeless eyes of Dream.

He’s not wearing any armor, instead having the same green hoodie and jeans outfit he usually likes to wear. The mask is gone- it’s nowhere in sight and Dream doesn’t seem to care that it’s not there.

An eyebrow arches at him. It’s weird seeing him so expressive. “What, really? Huh, you’ll have to tell me about it. But c’mere dude, I need a second opinion on something.”

This time, Dream waits patiently until Tubbo has the nerve to approach. Every bone in his body tells him to run the other direction but he fights it. He fights it and only because Dream is a ghost and he seems so _genuine_ and something is so _wrong._ So very wrong, on the tip of Tubbo’s tongue, but he can’t quite place it.

He needs to figure it out- he needs to know how dangerous Ghost Dream is. _Ghream? Drost?_ He’ll just have to be ‘Ghost Dream’ for now. Tubbo isn’t good with nicknames and a nickname isn’t his priority right now, not when he has people he needs to keep safe. 

Doesn’t ease the pounding in his ears however. Seeing Dream again, even as a ghost, sets off alarms that rattle Tubbo to his core.

Ghost Dream gestures in front of him when Tubbo is within range. There’s red, blue, and green carpet laid out in front of him.

“Which do you think will look the best? Because _I_ like the green but I’m kinda biased, y’know? I don’t want to put green down if they won’t like it.”

Tubbo’s head spins. Something’s off, _something is very wrong,_ but _what?_ “They?” Tubbo echoes faintly.

Ghost Dream gives him a look. “George and Sapnap.” He says, like it’s obvious. “I know we don’t use this place as much anymore but it’s still ours so I wanted to make it look nice again. I don’t know who replaced the ground with crafting tables but it did _not_ look good.”

Tubbo chose his next words carefully. “Hey, Dream? What’s the last thing you remember?”

Ghost Dream gave him a weird look for that. “The… Last thing I remember?” He frowned. “Why?”

“Just… Just answer the question.” Tubbo said when he couldn’t figure out a good excuse.

“Why are you- why are you acting so _weird?”_ Ghost Dream cocked his head to the side, lifeless eyes examining Tubbo carefully. “Actually, since when do you wear suits? And where did you get _those?”_

Ghost Dream gestured at the base of Tubbo’s neck, making him sharply inhale. _The burn marks from the festival. Fading now but never quite went away._

_Something is so very wrong._

“Dream… If- If I were to say I wear suits now because I’m President of L’Manburg, would you understand what that means?”

Ghost Dream sputtered instantly. For one split second, so quick that Tubbo isn’t sure whether or not he hallucinated it or not, his green hoodie is drenched in blood before it’s gone. “I- I know what a President is but I don’t know what the hell the other thing means- what’s a _‘L’Manburg?’”_

The last word was pronounced awkwardly, as if he had never spoken it before. It told Tubbo everything he needed to know.

Tubbo’s eyes widened, mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. Ghost Dream only seemed more confused by the second. “Tubbo?”

“I…” Tubbo glanced at the carpet and back, scrambling. The weight of his panic was finally breaking through the dam, hitting him like an unforgiving tidal wave. “The- you could do a mix of all three carpets.”

“I- I don’t know how good that would look but I guess I could but- Tubbo, why are you avoiding my question? Is- is L’Manburg the name of your land or something? What- hey!”

Tubbo’s fight or flight instincts finally took over, shaken to the core at his own realization. Considering how the last time went when he chose to lash out, Tubbo’s legs moved on their own, sprinting out of the community house before he can process what he’s doing.

Ghost Dream follows but stops once he gets out the door. He calls out, question after question but his words fall on deaf ears.

One second, Tubbo is running. He blinks and he’s approaching his home in L’Manburg, gaze refocusing on a familiar but confused face standing in front of his front door like a loyal dog at a loss for what to do other than pace around the poarch.

“Tubbo?” Tommy asks quietly. His stance is guarded, searching behind him for a danger that isn’t there. “You alright?”

Tubbo doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything at all. He quickly pulls Tommy into his house and takes the first seat he can find. He ends up sitting at the dining table, head spinning in his hands.

Tommy hovers nearby for a while before something clicks in his head and he starts moving around the kitchen, collecting something from the cupboard and a couple of mugs.

Tubbo doesn’t know how long he sits there trying to get a grip on reality but when something nudges his hand, he looks up to a mug with steaming hot coco and takes it immediately.

It almost makes him laugh. Making someone who’s upset some sort of drink or food to eat and focus on- that’s a Philza move if he’s ever seen one. No doubt Tommy learned it from him, though Tubbo doubts Tommy realizes this fact. He seemed to be moving on autopilot more than anything.

Tubbo takes a greedy sip and scalds his tongue immediately. It hurts but it brings his mind back to reality, grounding him if nothing else. Tommy scolds him on second nature, telling him to drink slower before pulling up a chair next to him. When Tommy takes a sip, he winces, which _does_ earn a faint snort from Tubbo.

“Drink slower.” Tubbo mumbles back at him. Tommy scowls and calls him a bitch but there’s no real bite to it and he seems more relieved than anything.

“How you feeling, big man?”

Tubbo only responded by nodding, blowing on the coco before taking a slower sip. It was slightly watery but Tubbo didn’t care. It was good nonetheless and Tubbo would drink it either way.

Tommy paused, glancing over him again before his eyes narrowed. “Did someone try and attack you? I swear to god, I’ll beat them up and steal all their stuff- _I’ll do it, Tubbo-”_

“Nobody tried to hurt me.” Tubbo says at last. His voice comes out more hoarse than he expected and Tommy goes silent when he hears it. Tubbo tries not to wince at his voice and keeps going. “I… I saw something. Someone.”

“...Who? Sapnap and George?” Tommy guesses. His previous promise is not lost in his words, lingering in the question, _if they hurt you, I’ll make them pay._

He doesn’t want to say it but Tubbo knows he doesn’t have a choice. “Dream.”

Tommy’s face pales in an instant. 

_(Tubbo tries not to think about how Dream terrorized Tommy in his exile._

_He fails to do so.)_

“He- he’s _back?”_ Tommy asks, voice quieter than Tubbo’s ever heard it. Every hair is on its end and Tubbo quickly manages to force the words out to comfort him.

“Not- not really.” Tubbo struggles to find a way to say it before settling with, “He’s like Ghostbur.”

“...Oh. _Oh.”_

“Yeah.” Tubbo breathes. “I… Uh, you know how Ghostbur only remembers the good memories?”

Tommy picks up on it quickly, though seems tense when he asks. “What does he remember?” 

“He knows who we are but- when I asked him about L’Manburg- he didn’t even _recognize_ the name. Tommy, he- he doesn’t seem to remember the first _war!”_

Silence follows Tubbo’s words and they both sit there, staring at their mugs.

“Shit.” Tommy says at last.

Tubbo couldn’t have said it better himself.

—

It’s been eight days and other than Bad and Ant, everyone else has done the smart thing and given Sapnap and George some _goddamn_ space.

Good. 

Sapnap would like to think his temper has gotten better but if he even _hears_ the words ‘Sorry for your loss’, he might actually snap and commit mass murder like everyone expects him to. And then maybe finally have the breakdown he’s due to have. Neither of which Sapnap wants to do so he remains, hidden away in his home, keeping himself busy in any way he can.

George has been staying with him, a fact that neither question because both refuse to leave the other’s side. An unspoken rule between them, though it remains unspoken because neither have said much at all.

There’s an elephant in the room- one that takes up so much space that it’s hard to ignore but they do anyway. If they bring it up, that means they’ll have to talk about it, and it’s only been eight days.

Eight days since their best friend died.

It’s not enough time.

(There will never be enough time.)

So Sapnap works. 

Collecting wood, mining resources, fixing up places in his base he’s been meaning to fix, whatever keeps him busy. He just has to keep his head down so nobody bothers him but above the water that wants to pull him under until he can’t breathe. A delicate balance but Sapnap manages regardless. It’s his only option- _giving in isn’t an option._

Wake up, work until sundown, collapse in bed, and do it all over again.

Don’t think about it. No matter what.

_(Don’t think about how much it hurts. Don’t think about how the last conversation you had was an argument about whether or not he cared about you and George. Don’t think about how you never got to know if he really cared about you or not. Don’t think about how different he seemed when you saw him in passing. Don’t think about how you ignored him._

_Don’t think about how you never got to say goodbye._

_Don’t you **dare** think about the funeral looming in the horizon.)_

Sapnap doesn’t think about it. He works.

_Cut the logs for the fire. Sharpen your weapons. Remake your old tools. Eat- not because you want to but because you need to and George looks so upset when you don’t. Mine, but don’t stray too far from home. Sleep as much as you can and don’t talk about your dreams. Don’t even say the word._

Sapnap follows the routine, day in and day out with the occasional visit from Bad and Ant. He refuses to cry in front of either of them but if he drops his guard a little, that’s his own damn business.

(Quackity and Karl know he wants space but still send him messages. They help- he’ll be able to talk to them eventually- but not now. Not yet.)

It’s early afternoon of the eighth day and there’s a knock at the door. Sapnap opens it expecting Bad’s gentle smiling face as he usually comes in the morning.

Sapnap is face to face with Tubbo instead.

His jaw clenches on instinct.

“...Hello, Tubbo.” Sapnap says, voice strained. “We’re not taking visitors right now.”

“I- I figured.” Tubbo looks nervous, but not in the same way Sapnap expected. Guilt is there but it’s not as overwhelming as some form of anxiety seems to be. “Something… Something came up.”

Tubbo just barely meets his eyes. They’re hesitant at first before his resolve hardens. “You… You know I wouldn’t be here uninvited if it wasn’t important, right?”

“Yes.” Sapnap answers reluctantly, arms crossing. “What do you want?”

Tubbo hesitates again and stays silent for far too long. “Out with it already.” Sapnap snaps. “Stop handling me with kiddie gloves, I can take it.”

“Have you seen the community house recently?” Tubbo blurts.

The question catches him off guard. “...Haven’t exactly been out much so, no.”

“Go there. Either alone or- or bring George with you but _go_ there.”

Tubbo takes a step back, letting out a breath and averting his gaze to the ground again. 

“There’s something you should see. I haven’t told anyone else but Tommy because _you_ and George deserved to know first.”

Sapnap doesn’t know what to say, head spinning with possibilities.

Tubbo is gone by the time he forms questions. His gut twists. George had gone out to collect more food for the both of them earlier- he said they need more variety in their meals but Sapnap suspects he’s looking for something to keep him busy too. Sapnap doesn’t know when he’ll be back, George didn’t say.

He wants answers. He _needs_ answers. And since Tubbo had trouble saying it, something tells him he’ll find them in the community house.

Sapnap prepares for the worst, packing his weapons, and heads straight for it.

—

The community house looks different. _Better._

Sapnap stands outside of it, trying to figure out why Tubbo was so adamant about him seeing… What, a couple of new decorations? Is this- is this supposed to make him _feel_ better?

...Maybe it does, a little. Not that he’s going to say anything about it.

Sapnap pushes his way inside, glancing around. It looks like an actual house now, wood replaced and looking sturdier than ever, furniture set up as well as fresh flowers, and carpet.

Blue, red, and lime green carpet.

 _Lime green carpet._

A stupid color shouldn’t get to him but it does. Sapnap averts his eyes, only to notice a picture frame hung up on the wall. His breath leaves him, footsteps slowly approaching until he’s staring at it breathlessly and feels the knot in his chest loosen.

A few tears escape him. He quickly wipes away the evidence but can’t take his eyes off the picture. 

_They look so young. God, Dream-_

“Good pic, huh?”

Sapnap’s blood turns to ice.

He imagined it. There’s no way, _there’s no way-_

A hand grazes his shoulder. Sapnap’s sword is drawn and swinging at the figure behind him before he can think.

Had it been anyone else, they probably would’ve taken the hit. Sapnap has quick reflexes and a keen fighting ability, one that few can match. He rarely loses duals after all.

The figure dodges as easily as they can breathe, as if they know Sapnap’s movements by heart. His muscles lock up upon seeing him.

“Jeez- watch it!” The voice he knows all too well says, half scolding and half laughing. “Could’ve taken an arm off if you swing like that!”

He’s not wearing his mask. He floats an inch off the ground. His smile is back- his _real_ smile, genuine and unrestrained and undeniably happy to see him. His eyes aren’t green anymore- they’re white. He can see straight through his body. He’s not wearing any armor. He looks free. He looks lifeless.

All of these facts hit Sapnap at once. By some miracle, he just barely manages to keep it together, carefully controlling his breathing.

_“Dream?”_

“Yeah? Are you okay, dude? You’re lookin’ a little pale. Did I scare you _that_ bad or what?”

His tone is humorous but Sapnap can tell in his eyes that he knows something is wrong. His hands fidget, something Sapnap hasn’t seen him do since-...

Too long. _Too long._

His hand reaches out to touch his shoulder. Dream- _Ghost Dream?_ \- thankfully doesn’t ask any more questions Sapnap can’t answer and stays still, letting him.

His form isn’t exactly solid- it shifts slightly, almost rippling like water when he touches it- but it’s solid enough. It’s all Sapnap needs. 

His sudden movement startles Ghost Dream but Sapnap pulls him into a bear hug, arms clutching the ghost of his best friend and trying not to cry- _he’s not going to cry._

Ghost Dream blinks but hugs back, giving two pats on the back and one squeeze- classic Dream hug.

Sapnap tries not to think about the last time they hugged. 

A few minutes pass. The time limit for a normal hug- even for a long one- passes with it. Ghost Dream tries to pull away but Sapnap squeezes tighter.

“Dude, are you okay?” Asks the dead man.

Sapnap doesn’t answer right away. His eyes get misty for a second and he furiously blinks it away.

 _“It’s-”_ Sapnap’s voice cracks. He hates that it does, swallowing thickly and trying again. “It’s been awhile. Since I’ve seen you like this.”

“Like- like what?”

 _Carefree. Guard down. Happy._ Sapnap doesn’t voice his thoughts. 

Ghost Dream laughs quietly after a second of silence. “You’re being so clingy- it couldn’t have been _that_ long.”

_It has._

“Look, if it means that much to you, we can like, hang out all day or something. Just Dream and Sapnap time. That sound good?” Sapnap nods. “Good. So… You’re gonna have to let go, you realize that, right?”

“...I’m not letting go.” Sapnap said out loud when his arms refused to release him. “I… It sounds stupid but if I let you go, you’ll disappear, so I’m not. Just, get used to it or something.”

A small wheeze escapes Ghost Dream. “I’m not- I’m not going anywhere, dude. Just let go for a second, I’ll prove it to you.”

His limbs are locked in place until Ghost Dream coaxes him out of it with a low, “Not gonna disappear, I promise.” He feels childish for his own desperation until he remembers he’s holding a ghost of his best friend and maybe he has a right for acting this way.

Sapnap lets go, though only takes a half step back. Ghost Dream holds his arms out, chuckling softly but not at Sapnap. He seems to laugh more to lighten the mood than anything- _to make him feel better._

“See? Perfectly fine.” He says, despite the fact that Sapnap can see straight through him. “I know you’ve probably had a rough day or something but I’m right here. I’m not just gonna disappear into thin air- I don’t do that- you _know_ that.”

Sapnap keeps his doubts to himself.

One arm gestures to follow him. “C’mon, I’ll show you around, this place is a lot cozier now.”

He takes a breath, then nods. If he ends up keeping one hand on Ghost Dream’s shoulder the whole time to ground himself, that’s between them. 

(Ghost Dream glances at the hand but doesn’t bring it up. Sapnap is grateful for that, he’s not sure what he would say.)

—

George’s communicator buzzes furiously with texts. He almost wants to ignore it out of spite since it interrupted him in the middle of picking sweet berries and he got pricked a few times, but he sees who it’s from and gives in. 

George might’ve been having a worse week than most but Sapnap’s in the same boat as him. They can’t start ignoring each other now, not when they can only rely on each other.

(Logically, George knows that’s not true but it’s felt like it recently. Sapnap and George, against the world.

Nobody else quite understands what they’re going through. Except Bad, but he has Skeppy, he’ll be okay.)

George makes quick work stuffing the berries in a jar and wiping any juice that got on him off on his jeans. He then grimaces at his mistake- _that’s going to be rough to clean out later_ \- but doesn’t have time to think. He fumbles for his phone, trying to keep it still and finally checks his texts. 

_Sapnap: george_

_Sapnap: george answer your phone_

_Sapnap: george this is urgent_

_Sapnap: text me back as soon as you get this_

_Sapnap: it can’t wait_

Adrenaline races through his veins. Shakily, George texts back, hoping he’s not too late.

_George: Sapnap??_

_George: What happened_

_George: Hello??_

A minute passes. No response. Anxiety crawls under his skin and he makes quick work of packing up everything and racing towards Sapnap’s house. He gets a text on his way there and he scrambles to check it.

George expects the worst and the worst is already unbearable. _God, please, I already lost one best friend, don’t make me lose another-_

_Sapnap: community house_

_Sapnap: come here_

_Sapnap: now_

George stares at the text for a long moment.

_George: Community house??_

George is halfway through typing out a question but stops when the next text comes through.

_Sapnap: please_

_Sapnap: just trust me and get here as fast as you can_

He hesitates but lets out a breath and texts him that he’ll be there soon. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, George sets a path for their old home, trying not to imagine stumbling on the worst possible situation.

The sun is getting low in the sky but isn’t quite setting when George arrives. The community house looks better than he expected, new wood replacing the old and shutters over the windows. Hesitantly, he approaches and pushes the front door open.

They never did install a lock on the door. They never needed to. 

Stepping inside, George gets a rush of nostalgia that leaves an ache in his chest. The place looks different now- since when did they add rooms?- but somehow, it still feels the same. He swallows thickly, glancing around. 

“Sapnap?” He calls out. Sapnap rounds the corner seconds later, rushing towards George and grabbing his shoulders. 

_Unharmed._ His mind tells him and George breathes a little easier.

“George,” Sapnap tells him carefully, almost intensely. “There’s something that you need to see and- and it’s pretty rough so if you’re not ready to handle something like that, come back later, alright?”

“I’m fine, Sapnap.” George assured him, though doesn’t have the heart to push his hands away. His eyebrow furrows. “What’s the problem?”

Sapnap pursued his lips before saying, “It’s better if you see it for yourself.” 

George trusts his word and nods.

Sapnap leads him into what seems to be a decorated living room, though it doesn’t have much other than a couch and a coffee table so far. However the fact that their old home got an upgrade isn’t what catches his attention, but rather who’s lounging on the couch.

George swears he’s hallucinating that smile when it sees him. _It’s impossible, it’s not real, he’s-_

“George! Good to see you.”

_...Oh. So this is why Sapnap asked if I could handle it._

“D- _Dream?”_

“That’s me. You alright..?”

George takes a shaky breath and nods. The ghost of one of his best friends frowns, eyes darting between Sapnap and George. “Did- did something happen?”

“We’re fine-” Sapnap started to say but Ghost Dream cut him off, standing up. 

“I know when you’re bullshitting me, Sap.” Ghost Dream said bluntly. “Everyone’s been so weird lately- you’ve been walking on _eggshells_ around me all day. Don’t think I haven’t noticed! What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me? Why- why do you both seem so _upset?”_

“Are you _kidding_ me?” George croaked. “Dream, you’re a g-”

_“George.”_

George nearly jumped out of his skin at Sapnap’s low tone. His eyes were dangerously careful and seemed to say one thing, _‘Don’t finish that sentence.’_

“Dream, George and I are going to go talk outside for a second.” 

“What? Why?”

 _“Dream,_ just stay here. It’s important.”

Ghost Dream seemed to want to argue but surprisingly, he didn’t. Instead he watched with his pupil-less, white eyes how Sapnap steered George out of the community house, shutting the door behind him.

Sapnap took them well out of hearing distance from the community house before he seemed satisfied. “I- I’m sorry. I should’ve given you a heads up but I wasn’t sure you would believe me.”

“What the _hell_ was that?”

“Dream is a ghost-”

“I can _see_ that.” George scoffed. 

“Let me finish.” Sapnap said. “Dream is a ghost and he- he doesn’t _know_ he’s dead.”

Oh. 

_Oh._

“His memory is worse than Ghostbur’s.” Sapnap continued. “I’ve been getting a read on what he does and doesn’t know for the last couple of hours. He vaguely remembers Wilbur arriving but anything involving the wars and L’Manburg itself is just… Gone.”

 _“Gone?”_ George gaped at him. “Months of his life is just- just _gone?_ Without a trace? Ghostbur- he has vague memories but Dream, he doesn't-..?"

Sapnap nodded but the two found themselves at a loss for what else to say.

“I think,” George said, “We have to ease him into it. The whole ‘Being dead’ thing.”

“We can’t tell him.”

“What? Sapnap, he needs to _know.”_

Sapnap gritted his teeth, pointing at the community house furiously. _“That_ is the happiest I’ve seen him in _months._ He’s- he’s acting _himself_ again- not an all powerful, terrifying leader, not some sort of- of _manipulator_ from the shadows, not the guy who cares more about a couple of _disks_ then his best friends, but like our best friend. Like _Dream.”_

George opened his mouth to argue but Sapnap doesn’t give him the chance.

“We already lost him _twice,_ George. The first time when he chose against us _over and over again,_ and the second when he _died.”_

Not once does Sapnap draw his blade but his words cut deep nonetheless. George takes a step back from the weight of them, feeling heavy and dizzy all at once. Sapnap doesn’t pull away unscathed either, the air from his lungs stolen by his own words, leaving him gasping.

George doesn’t want to cry. He’s been doing everything he can this past week to stop himself from doing so. But when he finally meets Sapnap’s eyes again and sees how close he is to breaking too, he nearly loses it.

They both stand there, on the verge of tears, with the only thing stopping them being someone clearing their throat.

Both heads snap to attention. Ghost Dream holds his hands up in surrender. “Just me.”

“How much did you hear?” Sapnap asks immediately, almost desperately.

“Honestly? Nothing at all. Just heard yelling and…” Ghost Dream trails off before groaning. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I don’t- I don’t _need_ to know what's bothering you two. But just- come into the community house, sit down, I can see if we have any food lying around- I haven’t gotten hungry at all so I didn’t think to stock up but just- just let me do something nice for you guys. _Please.”_

Sapnap and George stand in front of their best friend, now a ghost, arms outstretched and wanting to help. Both cave immediately.

(How could they say ‘No?’)

With one arm around each of them, Dream coaxes them back into the community house and onto the couch. George provides his bag- full of food he collected- which Dream accepts and floats off to the kitchen to make something.

Sapnap and George don’t say a word out loud but have a mental battle through eye contact until they come to a silent agreement.

They’ll tell Dream, eventually. But not right now.

Ignorance is bliss after all, and neither one of them are in any hurry to ruin that bliss.


	2. Yes and No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s on the tip of his tongue but he can’t quite taste it. Not yet anyways.
> 
> (Ghost Dream collects puzzle pieces. George and Sapnap try to stop him from putting it together. Bad is caught in the crossfire.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a lot more fluffy. I don't know what happened.

A handful of days pass and yet, George still finds himself adjusting to his new reality.

He knows, of course, that something like this would take time to settle but impatience poisons his veins and leaves him with a discomfort that never goes away. George finds himself on edge far too often, usually because Ghost Dream makes a comment or question that he’s not prepared to answer.

On one particular sleepless night in the community house (George and Sapnap have started living there with Ghost Dream, not wanting to leave his side), George finds himself outside and under the stars. The moon is high in the sky, signaling to George exactly how late it is, yet sleep still eludes him.

And to his surprise, he isn’t alone.

Ghost Dream looks like he’s glowing in the moonlight, giving him a truly spectral appearance. He hears George’s footsteps, head turning curiously before he grins, beckoning him over.

“Can’t sleep?” Dream guesses, speaking softly as George joins his side, as if he doesn’t want to risk waking up Sapnap even if they’re outside and out of hearing range.

George shakes his head. His dreams weren’t nightmares exactly, but they weren’t pleasant either. He woke up with a mix of anxiety and guilt deep in his chest, fully knowing he wouldn’t be going back to sleep anytime soon.

(When George and Sapnap first heard the news, Sapnap had demanded proof. They say denial is the first stage of grief and George remembers what that denial felt like all too well, as well as how it felt when it fell through the floor when Fundy complied and led them to the body.

There wasn’t an ounce in George’s body that doubted it was Dream once he saw him. There was a jagged scar across his chest- no doubt the injury that had killed him. It seemed impossible but it was true: Dream was lifeless and there wasn’t a thing they could do about it.

Sapnap couldn’t look at the body for long before his fists were shaking and he left the room in such a hurry that George would’ve thought he was being chased had he not understood. George however, fought the bile rising up in his throat and tried to ask Fundy what happened. 

George didn’t like the answer he got. He wished he was surprised that this was how Dream would go out but with how he was acting lately… It made sense in the worst way possible.

But there was one part of Fundy’s- _Tubbo’s?_ \- story that didn’t make sense to George. He mentioned how Dream had grabbed a golden apple- how he had several on him- but apparently never got to use any of them.

Did Dream… _Choose_ not to use any of them?

George’s head spun. It didn’t make sense, but then again, a lot of things about Dream didn’t make sense anymore. So distant, so cold, so secretive.

“It was us against the world, Dream.” George remembers screaming at the shadow in his dreams. “You, me, and Sapnap. You promised- you _promised_ you’d have our backs and then you- you-!”

_Chose to ruthlessly pursue a couple of disks? Chose to start keeping secrets, going off who knows where and disappearing for days- weeks on end? Chose to start ghosting us? Betrayed us, fought against us, stopped acting like our brother in arms and started acting like our enemy? Like a stranger?_

_You stopped being our best friend?_

Sapnap said they lost him twice already. George hated how right he was.

George screamed at the shadow of his best friend in his dreams and woke up feeling empty. He wanted answers he couldn’t have. Answers he would never get.)

“Sky is pretty tonight.” Ghost Dream hums. He pulls George out of his head, but does it so gently that it makes his heart ache. “Even if you can’t sleep, you can at least enjoy the night.”

George nods mutely, not trusting his own voice. If Ghost Dream notices- _he probably does,_ now that George thinks about it, _he notices a lot of things_ \- he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he decides to sit down, a motion that gets George to do the same.

For a minute, it’s peaceful. Just George, Ghost Dream, and the sky that surrounds them, like a weighted blanket settling across his body and slowing his breathing down.

Then Ghost Dream says, “Y’know, I haven’t been able to sleep much lately.” And George stops.

He stops because he suddenly realizes how badly this conversation could go.

“You’ve had insomnia before.” George murmurs. “Do you remember? You had it really bad as a teenager. Sapnap was _so_ worried. It looked like he was going to pull out his own hair sometimes.”

_“Just_ Sapnap?” Ghost Dream said, in a tone that was so obviously fishing that George deadpanned before flicking his forehead and making him yelp in surprise.

“You’re impossible.” George told him flatly. 

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“I _can_ actually.” He rolled his eyes. “Obviously I was just as worried too. Sapnap is just- just _better_ at these sorts of things than me.”

“At what?” Ghost Dream tilted his head like some sort of curious cat.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ghost Dream gave him an encouraging nudge, which finally lodged the words out of his throat. “Affection. Intimacy. I can _do_ comfort- I’m good at that- but affection is different.”

“Vulnerable.” Ghost Dream said. George nodded in confirmation before Ghost Dream clicked his tongue seemingly in agreement. “I get that. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses.” He then pauses. “I, uh, don’t mean to tease you when you struggle with saying you love me and Sapnap by the way. I mean- I mean I _do_ but like-”

“I know.” George cuts him off. “I know it's just teasing. I don’t take any offense, don’t worry about it.”

They fall into silence.

“...This feels different. Than- than when I was a teenager.”

George’s heart squeezes. “Oh?”

Ghost Dream nods, not taking his eyes off the sky. “Yeah. Back then, I was so _tired_ all the time, y’know. Like, I had trouble sleeping and I just had _no_ energy and I ate so much but I was still so _skinny_ but-...” 

He trails off, eyebrows furrowing. George so badly wants to stop him before he makes too many connections but his voice fails him.

“But I feel fine not sleeping. I don’t get tired, I don’t feel the need to sleep, and I’m not even _hungry_ either. It’s… Weird.”

_Don’t make the connection._ George pleads internally. _Dream- Dream, please. Not yet._

Ghost Dream doesn’t make the connection. George doesn’t know if he’s relieved or not, feeling lightheaded afterwards.

George should’ve known. He should’ve known waiting to tell him would’ve just made it worse but now it hits George like a train that he doesn’t want to tell Ghost Dream he’s dead in fear of losing the last piece of Dream he has left.

That would hurt far more than looking down at the body of his best friend again and asking how he died.

(Deep down, George knew exactly how he died before Fundy told him.

_He died alone.)_

—

In most ghost stories, they tend to mention how ghosts are formed because the dead have some sort of tie to the mortal realm that keeps them tethered to this world and won’t let them move on.

Sapnap isn’t sure how accurate those tales are but he’s starting to wonder if they’re true.

Ghost Dream doesn’t leave the land around the community house. The closest he gets is near the portal but otherwise, most of his time is spent floating around trying to improve it. He talks of wanting another floor, saying he wants to expand since the three of them need more room.

(Sapnap doesn’t want to think about how temporary their arrangement is. There’s far too many ways it could go wrong so he shuts out the ‘What if’s and focuses on the present.)

Since Ghost Dream doesn’t leave, Sapnap helps him collect materials needed for building. He usually comes back feeling exhausted after a long day and ends up sitting and watching Ghost Dream buzzes with energy as he fixes up their old house.

Sapnap takes a long sip of apple juice Ghost Dream provided upon his return and watches him work. It was an abnormally hot day and even though he’s out of the sun, his head still spins. Sapnap wonders if that’s what made him ask, a moment of weakness.

“How come you never leave?”

“Hm?” Ghost Dream pauses to look over.

“The community house.” Sapnap says, raising his voice. “You haven’t left since you started fixing it. Why?”

“Oh.” Ghost Dream pauses for a long moment. “Well, uh. I don’t- I don’t know how to say this.”

“Just… Say it.”

“It’s going to sound ridiculous.”

“It’s me.” Sapnap told him, voice softening. “I won't judge, I promise."

He laughed, a quiet sort of laugh but warm all the same. Sapnap never got tired of that laugh, he missed it. 

“I, uh.” Ghost Dream hesitated, but only for a moment. “I keep getting headaches. Whenever I go outside.”

Sapnap’s heart leaps into his throat and he tries not to choke on it. 

“And- and it’s weird because I don’t _get_ them in the community house. I feel fine when I’m in here but as soon as I stray too far, I’ll see some new build I haven’t seen before and then my head just starts _pounding.”_ Ghost Dream shakes his head. “I don’t get it. They’re like- like _migraines._ You remember how bad I used to get those? It’s like that but _mind splitting,_ if that makes sense.”

“Oh.” It makes too much sense. 

“Sapnap?”

_Shit,_ Ghost Dream caught that.

“That sucks, dude.” Sapnap replies, keeping his voice level. “We should probably see someone about that. Don’t want it to be anything serious.”

He must’ve caught himself just in time because Ghost Dream makes a half huff-half laugh noise that seems dismissive. “I promise you it’s nothing serious. You don’t need to worry about me.”

_As if I can do anything but recently._ “Remember that time I said my wrist was just sprained for like, a week before we realized it was actually broken and I was making it worse by ignoring it?” Sapnap counters, raising an eyebrow.

Ghost Dream considers that for a moment. “Fine.” He gives in, shaking his head. “If it’ll make you feel better, fine, we’ll look into it later. But I promise you, I’m fine.”

Sapnap huffs, mouth twitching upward but falls again when Ghost Dream has his back turned. His stomach churns with the sudden realization.

_It’s going to hurt him when he remembers, isn’t it?_

—

George steps out of the shower, quickly drying off before wrapping his towel around his hips. 

He thought a shower might help him relax and to it’s credit, it did for a while. The first ten minutes were pleasant, nothing but him and the warm water, but then he started to get into his own head and it all got ruined.

Tubbo told him the other day that he’s been informing other people about the existence of Ghost Dream. Mostly just the citizens of L’Manburg but the thought still put George on edge.

How easy it would be for just one of them to talk to Ghost Dream and ruin everything he and Sapnap were trying to preserve. George told Tubbo to tell them to keep their distance- that they needed some space- and Tubbo reluctantly agreed.

George bought them some more time. Just a little longer before the inevitable.

Ghost Dream kept hitting the right points but hadn’t quite pieced it together. However with how observant he seemed to be, even if his memories were jumbled, he’s going to figure it out sooner or later.

_He just needs a little more time._

George stepped out of the bathroom, still in his own head. He immediately was jump scared by Ghost Dream, suddenly grabbing his shoulders. George screamed- loud and admittedly squeaky- and the ghost dissolved into a fit of wheezy laughter.

_“Oh my god-”_ Ghost Dream said between breaths. “Your _face! HA!”_

George scoffed in embarrassment but found it difficult to get mad. His ‘Tea Kettle Laughter’, as he and Sapnap had dubbed forever ago, was like music to his ears. _Familiar, warm, welcome._

“Ambushing me when I’m getting out of the shower? _Really,_ Dream?” George gave him his most unamused voice he could muster. “Not cool. Let a man shower in peace.”

“It was so _worth it_ \- oh, I wish I could’ve recorded-...”

Ghost Dream suddenly trailed off. George met his gaze to ask what was wrong and nearly choked on how dark it was.

(George hadn’t seen Dream’s eyes look that dark since- _since-)_

“Who did that to you?” Ghost Dream asks, his tone turning low and dangerous. It’s quiet but it still manages to steal the air from George’s lungs.

“W- what?” George stutters. He glanced down at where Ghost Dream is looking- _at his chest?_ \- until he sees it too and he freezes.

There’s a deep but faded scar on his chest. A brutal yet clean injury, resulting in a quick death and took one of George’s lives. The scar never faded- the life-taking injuries never did- and while George had truthfully forgotten about its existence, Ghost Dream was now staring at it furiously.

_The scar from Technoblade. The one he gave me when he assassinated me._

_A scar that Ghost Dream wouldn’t remember._

“Who did this to you?” Ghost Dream repeated slowly. 

“That… Is a long story.”

_“Who.”_

There was a brief moment where suddenly Ghost Dream flickered, eyes turning inky black before returning to their lifeless state. George’s breath hitched and he quickly pushed an excuse out.

“I don’t remember.” George tells him. “It happened so fast- I didn’t have time to react. I didn’t see who it was, they just killed me and ran.”

(The last bit _is_ true. George never saw Technoblade, just a ruthless figure suddenly lunging at him as he sat on the throne and the blade piercing right through his armor. It hurt- _it burned_ \- but only for a moment. One moment before George gasped in his bed as he respawned. 

Dream had told him who did it. He seemed to be angry but had nowhere to go with it. 

He almost seemed sympathetic when he told George. Almost. It was always so hard to tell with that damned mask on.

_How long had it been since Dream took it off around him or Sapnap?)_

Ghost Dream holds a steady gaze, not believing him, but George refuses to give up the information. George knows he’s won when he finally breaks eye contact, seemingly staring off into nothingness for a minute before hovering over to the door. 

It’s weird winning arguments against him but Ghost Dream usually gives in a lot easier than he did when he was alive. 

“Okay.” Ghost Dream says. “But if you _remember-”_

He doesn’t finish, simply giving George a meaningful look. A ‘I’ll fight for you’ look that he missed so dearly.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” George tells him. “Now shoo, I need to get dressed.”

Ghost Dream dips his head and leaves.

—

Sapnap sleeps better when he’s with someone. Always has and always will.

Because of this fact, he avoids going on long, solo adventures as much as he can and in the event of a couple rough nights, knows exactly how to break into everyone’s house in case of emergency.

Sleeping in the same room as someone or even snuggled up to them isn’t a guarantee of a peaceful night but he finds it helps far more often than not. Which is why, after spending hours agonizing over trying to fall asleep but being unable to, Sapnap ends up dragging Ghost Dream to his bed and falling asleep on top of him.

Ghost Dream barely protested at the idea, though kept poking fun that he was being clingy again. Sapnap laughed it off but truthfully was too tired to care, instead flopping on top of the ghost and pressing his face into his chest. His presence was colder than he was used to but it was a hot night anyways so instead of complaining, he welcomed it and closed his eyes.

Sapnap was asleep in mere minutes.

His night was not peaceful.

In his dreams, Sapnap was running.

No armor, no shield, nothing but his sword- thankfully netherite and enchanted- and his wits. He ran from an enemy he couldn’t quite see but knew was there, a blurry threat chasing him in the distance.

Sapnap was just fast enough to evade them but his chest heaved and his legs felt as if they were on fire.

Sapnap stopped to rest, glancing behind him and trying not to cry with relief when he could no longer see the figure chasing him. His eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings before he stopped.

There was a cobblestone tower and a lake. Lake that was clear at first before it suddenly became stained with blood, turning the clear waters red and leaving an unsettling feeling in his chest.

It felt like deja vu.

Sapnap had seen this before, hadn’t he? He knew this scene. It was right there, in the back of his head. A memory hidden away, one he didn’t like to think about. A battle that he lead, a battle that he lost, a battle of-

Sapnap almost stopped breathing when it hit him. _Battle of the lake._

There were footsteps behind him. Familiar footsteps- his pursuer had caught up with him. Sapnap knew who it was before he turned around, fear seizing him by the throat without mercy.

The sword in his hand suddenly felt unbalanced and heavy. Sapnap raised it, half to defend himself and half because _he didn’t know what else he could do._

His pursuer wore full netherite armor with a matching sword in hand. His pursuer stood against him, ready to chase him to the ends of the world if need be. His pursuer wore the face of someone he considered his brother and had the coldest eyes Sapnap had ever seen.

His pursuer wasn’t wearing his mask and somehow, that was worse. Because Sapnap could see just how indifferent he was to be fighting against him.

Sapnap took a step back. His pursuer took a step forward. 

“D- _Dream,”_ Sapnap’s voice wavered. “Please. Don’t do this.”

Dream didn’t say a word. He took another step forward. 

“I don’t- I don’t want to _fight_ you.” Sapnap pressed. “But I will if I have to. But I’m asking you- as one of your best friends- _please,_ just walk away.”

Dream didn’t back down. He didn’t even look like he considered the idea. He took another step forward.

Sapnap backed up, now at the edge of the lake and one step from falling in. His instincts told him to run but something else told him that he wouldn’t get far. That Dream would not let him escape without finishing the job.

“If you take one more step, I won’t hold back.” Sapnap warned.

Dream took another step. Sapnap hesitated before he finally made his attack, swinging hard and fast.

Dream blocked it with his shield as if he knew it was coming and dodged another swing when Sapnap attempted it. He remained one step ahead, all of Sapnap’s attacks missing as if he knew exactly how he was going to react. Like he was in Sapnap’s head and knew how this fight would end before he did.

Dream moved quickly before he could respond, dashing behind him and didn’t give him a second to try and block the attack before Sapnap felt an agonizing pain rake across his back and his knees gave out.

Sapnap couldn’t move, pain shaking him to his very core. He gasped, feeling the fire aspect enchantment in full as his veins felt like they were ablaze. The fight was over in minutes but Dream wasn’t done. 

Sapnap knelt by the edge of the lake and Dream kicked him in, not listening to his cries before he hit the water.

The lake was far deeper than it should’ve been and Sapnap sank like a rock, the sun disappearing as the dark waters below swallowed him and he couldn’t breathe.

His veins were on fire, he couldn’t breathe, but the worst part was the fact that he could still see Dream staring into the water from the shore and he didn’t even blink. 

_Then he walked away and left Sapnap to drown just as the water flooded his lungs-_

And Sapnap woke up to cold hands on his face.

His arms locked into a death grip around the freezing body he laid on but he didn’t care. The cold woke him up but could only do so much. He was vaguely aware of someone speaking but couldn’t make out the words. Instead, his heartbeat was too loud, his hands were too shaky, _phantom pain of a fire aspect sword cutting deep into his back made him feel like he was dying again-_

_No,_ he’s not there, he needs to focus. Focus on something real- on something in front of him. Sapnap lifts his head, meeting the semi-familiar gaze of- _of-_

_The fire aspect sword cuts deep into his back and he lets out a strangled scream that falls on uncaring, deaf ears of one of the few people he trusted-_

Sapnap scrambles back abruptly, pulling away from the cold hands on his face and gets just out of arms length before the words come spilling out on his own.

“I- _I’m sorry.”_ Sapnap feels his voice break but fights the urge to cry. He’s not going to cry- _don’t show weakness, you won’t get pity, you don’t deserve it anyways-_ “I- it was an accident, I swear. I didn’t mean to kill Henry, I was just going to- I just was going to hide him from Tommy for a while to- to freak him out and I made that jump on instinct and-”

“Sapnap, what the hell are you-”

“And- and it just all got out of control and-” He bows his head, a fistful of his own hair being squeezed in his hands. He gasps, trying to breathe- _why is it so hard to breathe? Why does it feel like his lungs are on fire?_ “I’m _sorry,_ okay? I don’t know what I did that made you- _but- but I can do better. I can do so much better so please-"_

_“Sapnap!”_

The shout breaks him out of the haze. He stares at Dream with wide eyes, fully expecting to see those indifferent, cold, green eyes telling him to _shut his mouth and do as he’s told._

But instead he gets a pair of deeply concerned, white eyes and reality washes over him again.

Not Dream. _Ghost_ Dream.

His breathing is shaky at best but he’s breathing again.

“Sapnap, can you hear me?” Ghost Dream asks slowly, searching his face for recognition.

Sapnap gives a hesitant nod, trying to focus when his head is spinning.

“Okay.” Ghost Dream says, pausing. “I… Just keep breathing, alright? You’re safe, you’re unhurt, and I got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Ghost Dream holds out his hands in front of them. It takes Sapnap a long while to take them, squeezing them tightly in hopes for an anchor to ground him.

It takes longer than he would like to come back, and even when he does, Sapnap doesn’t meet Ghost Dream’s gaze. He settles for staring at the ghost’s hands, translucent but solid nonetheless. 

They sit in silence for a long while. Ghost Dream doesn’t ask anything until he’s certain Sapnap can answer it. He doesn’t demand answers either, something that nearly makes Sapnap weep with relief but he refuses to break.

“Are you good to talk? Squeeze my hand twice for yes, once for no.”

Sapnap squeezes twice.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Are you sure?”

He squeezes twice again, firmer as if he’s trying to convince both of them that he is. Ghost Dream decides not to argue- _he rarely argues these days._

“Alright… I’m guessing you had a nightmare?”

_“Yeah.”_ Sapnap croaks out.

“What happened?”

“It’s… Complicated.”

Ghost Dream seemed to get the hint. “And who’s Henry?”

Sapnap swallowed the lump in his throat. “Tommy’s prized cow. I killed him.”

“Oh.” Ghost Dream blinked. “That’s not so bad…”

“This actually _happened,_ Dream. I killed Henry.”

“Okay… Things like that happen, I’m sure Tommy will get over it.”

Ghost Dream says the words slowly, like he’s not sure what Sapnap needs to hear. Like he’s not sure what Sapnap is so shaken about. 

_He isn’t angry._ Sapnap realizes with a jolt. _He cares more about me than the fact that I killed the cow._

The tension releases in his shoulder. The surprise and relief in Ghost Dream’s eyes only helps him get a firm grip on reality and not let go. Slowly, Ghost Dream pulls him in until he’s close enough to wrap his arms around him for a hug.

Sapnap doesn’t cry. He refuses to, but he still has to suppress the sob in his throat at how good it feels.

For Dream to be hugging him, for Dream to care about him more than any agenda he might have, for Dream to openly worry about his well being and try so, _so_ hard to make him feel better.

But it still hurts that there are ghostly arms hugging him rather than real ones. And it sure as _hell_ hurts that his best friend had to die before Sapnap felt like he cared about him.

“Whatever happens- whatever you’ve done- you know that I got your back, right?” Ghost Dream tells him. “Just say the word and I’ll be there. Promise.”

Sapnap doesn’t respond. He can’t decide if he believes him or not.

On one hand, Ghost Dream seems to truly care about him and George more than anything else.

On the other, the last time he trusted someone with the same face as him, he ended up being used and cast to the side.

_A second chance or history repeating itself?_

Sapnap clings to the ghost of his best friend a little tighter, unable to determine which is which.

—

There’s something wrong that everyone else seems to know but Dream. He knows something is wrong- he can _feel_ it- but it remains on the tip of his tongue without a name.

Dream gathers clues for a puzzle he doesn’t understand. Ever since he started fixing the community house, he’s only seen three people: Sapnap, George, and Tubbo, which the latter hasn’t returned since suddenly bolting out after talking about being… President? Of what, Dream doesn’t really understand. Or why he needs to be president at all, they don’t need a singular leader in the SMP, do they?

Sapnap and George on the other hand, have been acting like they’re scared to leave him alone for more than five minutes. Like he’s something fragile that could break any second- and they keep getting weirdly sentimental. It’s not just nostalgia, they’re acting like it’s the first time they’ve gotten to hang out with Dream in months which is absurd because Dream swears it hasn’t been that long.

Not to mention, there’s little things that are so off but Dream doesn’t know why. He doesn’t eat, he doesn’t get tired, he technically _can_ sleep but it doesn’t feel like sleeping. It’s more like he blacks out for a while and has dreams he doesn’t remember. Memories, so faint but in his head nonetheless.

And he gets these headaches when he strays too far from the community house. When he sees things he doesn’t recognize and his head feels like it’s splitting in half and it _hurts._

Dream doesn’t leave the community house as much for that reason. 

Not yet at least. If he doesn’t get answers soon, he might have to search for them on his own, headaches or not.

Plus there’s the fact that Dream can only do so much in the community house before he gets painfully _bored._

He’s more than halfway into reorganizing all of the chests when a knock at the door makes him perk up. George and Sapnap wouldn’t knock meaning it’s someone _new_ and the thought alone has him at the door in seconds.

Dream answers and is met with the face of an old friend, one he dearly missed.

“Bad!” Dream grins, stepping to the side and ushering him in. “How have you been?”

He barely gets another word in before Bad’s arms are around him in a bear hug. Dream squeezes back, chuckling.

_“Oh, Dream…”_ Bad says in a hushed voice, sucking in an unsteady breath before he pulls away. He looks over Dream like he used to after Dream came back after a long trip. Like he was double checking Dream was alright first- that he had no injuries he had neglected to take care of or had forgotten about. However, unlike the other times when he would give a satisfied nod of approval when he found none, Bad instead meets his gaze again, looking at him with something Dream can’t quite decipher.

Then, he sighs and gives him a light punch in the shoulder. “You muffinhead.” Bad says, and Dream doesn’t have the slightest idea why he’s being called that but he laughs all the same.

“Good to see you too, Bad. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“You could say that.” Bad nods, following him inside once the front door is shut. “I… I wanted to check up on you- and Sapnap and George too.” Bad seems to hesitate before asking, “How are you feeling, Dream?”

“Pretty good most of the time. I’ve been working on the community house, making progress.”

“Good… Sapnap tells me you’ve been having… Headaches?”

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out Bad’s being cautious with him. Exactly like Sapnap and George- handling him like he’s some sort of precious artifact in a museum to be preserved. He doesn’t understand it- he’s told them all he’s perfectly fine and yet… _Something_ is wrong. 

Why won’t they tell him what’s wrong?

“I get them sometimes, yeah. Probably the worst ones I’ve ever had, but they show up pretty randomly. Usually when I go outside.”

Bad hums along, chewing on his lip for a second, deep in thought. “And you don’t know why?”

“No.” Dream pauses, considering the gamble before he takes it. “But you do.”

Bad freezes on the spot. He opens his mouth and Dream already knows what’s coming but it’s too late. “Dream, I-”

“Oh come _on.”_ Dream sighs, cutting him off. He crosses his arms, keeping a steady gaze. Bad struggles to do the same. “I’m not an idiot, Bad. You, Sapnap, and George are hiding something from me.”

“No!” Dream hardens his gaze. “...Maybe.”

“I knew it.” Dream turns away, eyebrows furrowing. “I don’t get why you guys won’t just _tell_ me. If there’s a problem, don’t I have the right to know about it?”

“I- Dream, it’s not that simple. You _know_ if it were, I would tell you in a heartbeat. And- and for the record, I _do_ want to tell you! But… It’s complicated.”

Dream pauses before glancing over again. “Complicated how?”

Bad thinks for a moment. It’s long enough to where Dream knows it actually _is_ complicated but short enough to where he knows he’s not trying to make an elaborate lie to throw him off. Bad was never all that great at lying anyways, as ironic as it was. The only demon in the SMP couldn’t lie to save his life.

“Okay uh… Let’s say you had a really good… Muffin.”

Dream raised an eyebrow. Bad groaned. “It was the first thing that came to my mind, don’t judge me!”

“I’m not, I’m just starting to wonder where this is going. Go on.”

“Okay, so, you have this great muffin- and it’s one of the best muffins you’ve ever had, right? It’s delicious and you love it! But one day, you put it down and leave it somewhere for a while thinking you’ll come back to it later. And you leave… Maybe a little longer than you should’ve, and when you get back, ants have taken apart your muffin until it’s no longer your muffin anymore… You following so far?”

Dream nods, although he doesn’t feel as confident as he acts. There’s an itch under his skin that bothers him but he fights to ignore it.

“Okay, so, your muffin is pretty much gone at this point and… And someone gets rid of it. And- and they don’t _ask_ you if it was okay to or not so you’re a little angry but you can’t take it out on anyone because… Because that would be _ridiculous._ The muffin was already _gone_ and maybe- maybe you would like to think you could’ve salvaged it in some way even though you _can’t because there’s somethings that can’t be saved and-...”_

Bad swallows thickly. It physically hurts to see him so conflicted but he continues before Dream can form any words.

“So the muffin is gone and you thought that was that. You would just have to live without the muffin.”

Bad then looks at Dream for a split second, with something as dangerous as hope in his eyes. “But then you one day get a new muffin- almost exactly like the old one. Almost- not quite the same but tastes good- better even. And now you have to make the choice between savoring this muffin and risk losing it again or keeping it hidden away where it’ll never be touched but… Maybe losing it in another way.”

Dream stares at Bad for a long moment. His story almost brings something to the surface but doesn’t quite reach. On the tip of his tongue but indescribable, like always.

“What would you do, Dream?” Bad asks, his voice far quieter than he expected. “Preserve a copy of what you had or risk losing it in the name of living life to its fullest?”

There’s a weight to his words that Dream doesn’t understand. He answers nonetheless. “Isn’t my answer obvious?”

Bad laughs, silently but warm nonetheless. “It is, yeah. I guess I just wanted to hear it.”

Bad looks at Dream again, letting out a long breath. “It really is good to see you, Dream. Even if-...” 

Bad trails off and shakes his head. “Anyways, I should go check on Sapnap and George! I shouldn’t stay too long, I promised Skeppy I would be back by sundown and I know if I wait too long, I’ll end up sticking around all day. Where are they?”

“Upstairs.” Dream tells him. “It was good to see you too, Bad. You should visit more often.”

“I’ll make an effort.” Bad tells him with a smile. “I’ll see you around, Dream.”

Bad disappears up the stairs not long after. Dream doesn’t follow, only watching him leave while his head is filled with thoughts he doesn’t understand.

_On the tip of his tongue but not quite there…_

Dream huffs, turning back to the chests he was organizing earlier. 

There’s too many things he can’t quite figure out but he knows one thing for sure: Something’s upsetting his friends and come hell or high water, he’s going to fix it.

Whatever it takes.

—

There was an old running joke between the three that whenever they were in a tough place, they'd say, "Why don't we call Dad?" and immediately dial Bad's number.

As much as it was a joke, they found themselves turning to Bad and listening to his advice when it happened as it was usually fairly solid. Bad had helped all of them both individually and as a group on some of the worst parts of their lives, they trusted his judgement. So, naturally, when the issue of Ghost Dream came up, it wasn't long before they called him for his take on it.

And as per usual of getting Bad's advice, they didn't initially like it when they heard it.

"You need to tell him."

_“Bad-”_

“I get it, okay?” Bad says quickly, sending Sapnap and George a reassuring look. It stops the argument in his tracks and the demon sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I really do. It’s- it’s hard and it’s so nice to see him… Happy like this again. But you asked for my opinion so I gave it to you. What you do with my advice is on you.”

“We can’t just- just _tell_ him.” George protests. “There’s more at stake than just upsetting him- he’s a _ghost,_ Bad! What if he just disappears completely?”

“I-... I can’t _deny_ that it’s a possibility.” Bad admitted, then hurried to add on when Sapnap and George’s faces when pale. “But- we all know that he’s going to figure it out one way or another.”

Bad’s face fell at the thought. “And I don’t know about you two but if I were a ghost, I’d rather hear about it from my best friends then by figuring it out on my own.” 

The three of them stood in the tense silence. George shifted in place. “We just need a little more time.”

Bad stifled a breathy laugh. “I- I can see why. Just don’t wait too long, okay?”

The pair nodded. Bad glanced around before adding, “If you two ever need to get away from here for a while, Skeppy and I have extra rooms. Don’t hesitate, okay?”

Sapnap nodded. “You’re holding up alright then, right?”

“As well as I can.” Sapnap frowned. Bad shook his head dismissively. “I can handle it. Skeppy- well… He helps more than he knows. Speaking of, I should probably be heading home but… You two will be okay, right?”

Both gave him a reassuring nod. Bad smiled, letting out a breath he had been holding. “Good. Never hesitate to call me, okay?”

“I would never.” Sapnap told him. They waved him off as he descended down the stairs, most likely to make one last goodbye to Ghost Dream as well before he left. Sapnap turned to George, the pair sharing a meaningful look.

“Soon.” George said.

“Soon.” Sapnap agreed, then was reminded of the warmth of the ghost’s smile and said, “But not yet.”

They didn’t know when ‘Soon’ was but knew it was only a matter of time. The only thing they knew for certain was it wasn’t now. ‘Soon’ lurked in the distance, but it wasn’t here. 

They still had time left. It might've been slipping through their fingers like sand in an hourglass but it was still there. They just needed a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay listen the Dream SMP Wiki said that Sapnap lost a life because of Dream in the Battle of the Lake and I couldn't NOT use that-
> 
> Also listen, I really like the headcannon that Sapnap, George, and Dream all grew up relying on each other (and eventually Bad as well) so of course I had to incorporate it into the story. Found Family has me weak.
> 
> On another note, this was supposed to be a two shot but I think its gonna be longer because I kept thinking about it and I don't think I could fit all of it into a two shot so uh, stick around if you wanna see more because I'm probably gonna keep going with this. And if you liked it, consider leaving a comment! The support on the last chapter was a LOT more than I was expecting like holy shit, thank you all so much! Hopefully this lived up to the last chapter! Got one more planned for this arc before I move onto the next :)

**Author's Note:**

> Had a few thoughts on Ghost Dream so here's the first part. If you liked it, consider leaving a comment! They're amazing to see and do help my motivation! Thanks for reading!


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